


Aching For You

by angree_baratheon



Category: Takane to Hana
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 12:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angree_baratheon/pseuds/angree_baratheon
Summary: She likes Takane-san, doesn't she? Hell, she loves him. She's loved him since she was sixteen. What's so wrong with fingering herself to the thought of the only man who had made her felt so much ever since they've met?Or, Hana's nineteen now, Takane's twenty-nine. They aren't married, but they're officially dating. Nothing's much changed, to be honest, except Hana's wondering if it's alright to masturbate to her miai partner even though she's mostly refrained herself the entire time before.





	Aching For You

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so embarrassed that my first contribution to this fandom is a self-satisfying future fic where they almost smut. Almost, of course, being the key-word if I don't already have plans to continue this. Do I? I don't know. I might. For now, just enjoy a very panicked and very-over-the-world-but-cutest-couple in any existing shoujo manga I've ever read.

Hana isn't always this... _frustrated_.

In her defence, there just wasn't time for her to be. Frustrated, that is. ... _Sexually_ , she means. Of course, that isn't to say she _isn't_ without her moments of wanting to her rip her hair out with how her body has physically betrayed her, but she's played the game too long with Takane-san to know the limits of her determination. And she's _very_ determined. 

But, countering _that_ argument, she realises a lot of time when she _did_ manage to hold off that frustration was because she was primarily underage. She was a child, she used to tell herself. Getting off on the thought of a middle-aged man, one whom she could barely kiss carefully without it being a hard knock of mouths and praying they won't break their teeth was a great motivation to kill off any mood. She's nineteen now, though. And, objectively, the excuse of Takane-san being _too old_ , or that their _miai being a flimsy acceptable excuse to continue their barely-legal-but-fully-consensual-and-with-parental-permission relationship_ was... well. It just won't work anymore, she guess.

Why? Because now, since the secret's out, _and it's been out for quite some time_ , she and Takane-san has... technically... been officially dating.

It was still much easier to explain to Takane-san's business partners and high-class companies that they're marriage partners. It had just sounded more traditional on the tongue, sounded polite and posh-like, which fits _that_ side of Takane-san's life; the side that was glamorous and rich and dripping wealth. Outside of the circle though, outside of the expensive dresses and high-quality wine, there was definitely time Hana has had to admit that Takane-san was her, you know, _boyfriend_. (Unless he pisses her off, then he's a stalker. Or the man who was trying to convince her to join a cult. Heh. He'd been pretty pissed about that.) It's fair, though. Takane-san has long dropped the pretence that she was anything less than a proper romantic partner since she's turned eighteen, often time directing any tailor or clerk with endearing term to refer to Hana even though he would say them all in such a clipped, business-like tone.

(Hana _definitely_ doesn't think about how Takane-san almost seems far more comfortable addressing her as a miai partner. _Miai_. Together, with promise of marriage. Just him, to her. Her, to him. Nope. Definitely not thinking that.)

Point is, he's her _boyfriend_.

With how well-acquainted they are, to the point she is actually _presently_ lying down on the bed of his still-stupidly-large apartment due to the extra key he will always gift for her no matter his move whether frequent or abrupt, Hana is starting to think that maybe the restraint she's put regarding this subject might just be meaninglessly in existence. 

_Meaningless_ , she thinks with a furious blush, wanting to kick her feet against the bed as if Takane-san's under her mercy already but doesn't, thinking: _of course, it's not_.

Sure, she's slipped up — once, twice — in the shower, but that doesn't mean it was meaningless at all holding herself back.

 _Still_.

Hana bites her lips.

She likes Takane-san, doesn't she? Hell, she loves him. She's loved him since she was _sixteen_. What's so wrong with fingering herself to the thought of the only man who had made her felt so much ever since they've met? To the one man she'd fallen, and think, rather seriously, will be the only one she'll ever fall for her whole life? Takane-san was _it_. He'd mumbled once, a long time ago, in a drunken trance, that he'd consider marrying her, and Hana knew immediately her life wouldn't have gone any other way. They'd elope, if they must. Fight at their wedding if it's what it takes. 

But being with Takane was the only option left.

The blush doesn't fade away, neither does the aching want she could feel low around her pelvis.

She wants to be touched. She wants to moan.

 _She wants Takane-san here with her_.

And dammit. That was the case, wasn't it? She'd passed her legal age to be engaged in any form of consensual and legal sexual relationship, but every time they'd kiss, the most they would go for was a make-out session that would have Takane-san's tentative hands going for her ass. _Fuck_ , Hana curses at the ghost of the sensation when Takane squeezes it once, then twice, before somewhat pulling back and breathed heavily at her neck. She'd wanted him to continue. Wanted to know what else he would touch, what else he could squeeze.

But Takane-san had been a gentleman. Furthermore, he'd been traditional.

A man like him, Hana expects, would want to consummate with their partner they night they marry.

 _There isn't only one kind of sex, you know_ , Yukari had giggled when he'd caught the history search the other day, sending Hana to a near epilepsy attack, but — it did got her thinking. _There isn't_ , she finds herself agreeing now, fingers idly tracing the sleeping shorts she's got on, near the band where it wraps around her wrist, and wonders desirably how slim and quick Takane-san's hands would be tugging them down.

 _I want you touching me here_.

"Are you still at the office?" Is what she asks instead, pressing the phone in between the pillow and her ear. She sleeps over often enough to establish on which side her bed is — always the one near the window — but she can't help wonder into the pillow Takane uses. When she inhales, the scent of his shampoo is overpowering. She misses him.

On the line, Takane-san barely makes a noise but Hana immediately know the idiot is smirking. It isn't usual he'll work late if she'll be home - it's just lately, he's been having a busy few weeks. That's okay. She, too, is having her midterm evaluation at her college. She really _should_ be studying, but she'd squeezed in some good time revising for an hour before coming here. She's sure she can cramp the last twenty-or-so pages the hour before exam tomorrow. "If you miss me so much, all you've to do is admit them."

"The only thing I'll admit is my ability to be surprised by how fast you're ageing. You claim to arrive home at 9 o'clock sharp. It's passed fifteen minutes since. I understand it, though. Old people tend to lose track of time due to their degrading memories and worsening physical aptness."

"Why, you-!"

 _Come home quicker, Takane. I can hear the traffic in the background. You're driving to me, aren't you? Come. I need you_.

She bites her tongue from saying all of that, of course. On the other line, Takane hums — a habit he does when he wants to avoid cursing — before asking if she had dinner. On autopilot, it is easy to answer. There'd be an interesting episode of the tv show she's just recently gotten into, and it'd been an effective distraction from the fact that Takane-san wasn't around for her to finish her dinner with.

"Takane," she hears herself asking on impulse. "Why won't you touch me?"

She doesn't know which is worse: the question, or the seriousness her question pose when she drops the honorific. She can tell Takane-san is caught similarly off-guard when he hasn't answered. They both stay silent. When Hana glances at her phone, she realises a full minute has passed. That's sixty seconds. Now going seventy-two seconds. Finally, there's a sound. Hana really wants it to be the sound of her own mouth retaliating, or covering her mistake up, _just something_ , but instead—

Takane hums over the line. "I'm entering the parking lot. We'll continue this conversation upstairs."


End file.
